The Reminder
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: : "You wanted me, Teresa. I know it. As bad as I want you. Why do you want to resist, then?" "You know why" she said, looking at a particular point of his body, and when he followed her gaze, he saw what she was talking about: his wedding ring. Tag-ish to 5.14, M rated for adult themes.


**Title**: The reminder

**Author**: Little Firestar 84

**Fandom**: The Mentalist

**Characters and/or pairings**: Jane and Lisbon. Mentions of Jane/Lorelai

**Rating**: M for adult content (sex)

Status: complete

**Word Count**: 2950 ca.

**Notes**: spoilers for season 4/early season 5. Also works as a small and almost insignificant tag to 5.14...

**Summary**: "You wanted me, Teresa. I know it. As bad as I want you. Why do you want to resist, then?" "You know why" she said, looking at a particular point of his body, and when he followed her stare, he saw what she was talking about: his wedding ring. Tag-ish to 5.14, M rated for adult themes.

"And that's how I found Linda."

Her eyes fell from the young man before her to the corpse and the animal, devouring the flesh. The smell hit her, and her vision blurred, the stink of decomp hitting her full force.

And just like that, Lisbon lost her senses.

The world started to turn all around her, it was a weird mix of cacophonies sounds, all mixed together with no meaning whatsoever. It was like she was on a swing, and couldn't stop. Couldn't touch the ground any longer.

And then...piece. Calm. Quiet. And white heat.

The reassuring smell of wild musk and living male flesh hit her full force, and she thought she was nuzzling someone's neck- no, it wasn't a neck. It was fabric, pretty rough under her tender and soft skin, but warm nevertheless. And reassuring in a strange kind of way. And then...

And then she moaned, as strong arms encircled her. Biceps. Strong. Very muscular, indeed male. She felt like she was supposed to know them, and yet... it was, as she had already told to herself, strange. She knew that, from the sensation of the fabric against her skin, it was the same man she was currently nuzzling, half out. The sensation of the fabric made her also think of Jane, her memory palace showing her the room reserved for his hugs and the times she had touched him for this or that reason.

It seemed like the most plausible thing, and yet it didn't make any sense. Because the reason she was moaning half out? It wasn't misery or horror.

Nope. It was the hand who was pressed against her breasts, arousing her to new limits. Through clothes. Speaking of dry spells...

She giggled, thinking she maybe was just dreaming, thinking maybe she just imagined everything, and she opened her eyes, lazily. And that was when she saw him.

Jane.

Jane was holding her in his arms, on the floor with her, but his eyes weren't focused on her face. Nor he was checking pulse, breathing or any of the weird thing he was used to do in such occasions.

No. His dilated pupils were focused on his hand, pressed against her breast, and her hardening nipples, so hard he could see them through the think fabric of her silky shirt.

Warmth filled her whole being, and she blushed, as for a second she imagined them in a room, in this very position, minus the audience and the clothes. Her panties got wet and useless in an heartbeat, and when he breathed in audibly, she knew he had smelt her arousal.

She gasped, her eyes as big as saucers, as embarrassed as never before, but when she stared into his orbs-because somehow the green-blue seemed to call for her, glueing her on the spot- she didn't see embarrassment like he often felt when women hit on him or show any kind of interest.

No. Instead, Jane smiled, a bit smug, and moved her closer to him, making sure that it went unnoticed by the external eye. He pressed her against his front, and again she felt the need to giggle, but she didn't. What was she supposed to do anyway, rub him through his pants and ask him if he was happy to see her or if it was a gun in his pocket?

She blushed yet again, and she stood, embarrassed as never before. Dammit. She had been a cop since she was 21, had seen all kinds of gruesome crime scenes, and she lost her cool because of worms and bugs? What was she anyway, five?

She recomposed herself, still as red as a tomato, and said goodbye to the whole personnel of the lab, asking them to remain available through the next few days, and telling the uniform outside the room to wait for the coroner and make sure that nothing went missing, out of place or whatever.

God, what a day. Could it end pretty soon, pretty please? She was really having enough. A terrible poker game. Bertram in a bad mood who acted like an idiot (and behaved like an idiot) with her. And now, this... losing her senses and then having Jane discovering through tangible evidence that he turned her on in such an uncanny way.

She was still lost in her own little world, when she felt strong arms, the same arms that had saved her, holding her for the hips. New liquid warmth flew threw her, pleasure and need like she had hardly ever felt, and all for a single touch.

"Sorry Lisbon, but because of you, now we need for you to walk right before me..." he said, his voice low and husky in her ear. He was so close that she jumped, for she could swear he had licked her lobe as he had talked with her...

Not that his tongue against her skin had been the only thing she had felt, because against the small of her back, he had pressed himself, and his enormous arousal. Hard, hot and throbbing through their clothes.

She didn't know why, but then, as she walked, she started to seductively move her hips, making sure that every now and then his cock could touch her rubbing ass. Again she suppressed a giggle, as she heard him grunting at her back out of frustration.

She got Patrick Jane all hot and bothered. It felt so good...

Maybe too good to be true. Damn it to hell and back. Why had she allowed herself to be lulled into this lie? There was no way Jane was attracted to her. He had feelings for Lorelai. He liked dangerous, manipulative and criminal women.

"So, where now?" she coldly asked him as they climbed into her car. She wanted to be the Ice queen, she didn't want to melt for him. Her life was enough bad and dangerous as it was. She didn't need to add an hell-bend on murder in the first degree widower, still crazy in love with his deceased from ten years wife to the mix.

"I heard a professor talking about a wood she used to go to observe birds. I don't think that's our crime scene, but I believe we could find something rather... interesting there."

"Ok, let's see." she said simply, throwing her keys to the grinning blond and sitting at his side while he drove, and drove, and drove. They both stayed in silence the whole time, just allowing themselves to steal glances every now and then. She was well aware that Jane was studying her, trying to find a reason for her murderous arousal, and she didn't like it. It was bad enough that she loved him... but having him knowing it...

He took a side road, and proceed along it. Nobody was around, and when he arrived in a small clearing he parked in a corner, in the semi-darkness provided by the huge trees.

"So?" she suddenly asked, looking at him quizzically. Jane, in answer, just removed the keys, and put them in his back pocket, where it would be the hardest for her to grab them. "Well? That lead you promised me?" she went on, more and more annoyed with each passing second. She didn't know with whom, though, if with herself, or Jane.

"You know, normally women are flattered that men are aroused by them" he said, in the same annoyed tone she possessed.

"What, that's it? You feel bad because I turned you down?" she was almost laughing hysterically. God, she knew he had been hot and hard, but... for God's sake, he was an adult! "Hate to drop that on you, Jane, but it happens. You aren't as irresistible as you think you are." she said, matter of fact. She fell a tiny bit in love with herself as she said so. She felt strong. Powerful. She loved how she could resist him. Put him in th same position she had been for way too long.

She moved to leave the car as she felt his burning gaze on her, like he could really read her mind, undress her very soul, but before she could take even just one single step outside the vehicle, he grabbed her for a wrist, and mastering a strength she didn't know he posessed, he pushed her back inside.

As much as she normally hated display of strength, somehow, seeing Jane in such a way made her hotter, wilder. Again she got aroused, her panties losing completely their use in the blink of an eye. She guessed it was because he was a living enigma, a beautiful mixture of opposite sides. He looked as beautiful as an angel, a real cherub with the blue-green eyes and the blond curls, and yet he was as dangerous as a cobra; the perfect gentleman with his old-looking 3 pieces and his manners, and yet he had a strengt he rarely showed.

"That's not it and you know it. It's me you are talking about, Teresa, remember? The man who claimed women were accordions. And I know you... maybe even better than yourself. So, sweet Teresa, what's the deal? Tell me, you know you want to..." he whispered seductively, his breath hot on her beck, and yet she stood in complete silence, whimpering. "You wanted me, Teresa. I know it. As bad as I want you. Why do you want to resist, then?"

As she heard the words, she barely resisted crying. She knew shy she was resiting, but why couldn't he understand? Or was he just a bastard who wanted to break her heart again and again? Hadn't she suffered enough already because of him?

"You know why" she said. her face was turned toward him, but not her eyes. She was looking at a particular point of his body, and when he followed her stare, he saw what she was talking about.

His wedding ring.

"Teresa, it's not what you think..." he tried to explain, but she didn't give time. She laughed, like she was a maniac, crazy, shouting, gritting her teeth out of rage and despair.

"Oh, I know exactly what it means, Jane, trust me. After all, you told it yourself to me, remember? You told me that you used sex to get to Lorelai AND to Red John. That's why you still wear the ring. Why you didn't take it off while you were screwing his girlfriend . Because you were doing it for her and for Red John." she hissed the words with teary eyes, he could hear the rage, the disgust, the fear in every letter.

"It...it would be different with you. You aren't a mean to an end." he whispered, almost ashamed. His voice was so low he wondered if she had heard him at all.

"Really Jane? Then, why did you lie about loving me?" she demanded, not really giving him time to answer. "Because no matter how you look at it, you always lied. Either you did about actually loving me... or about having forgotten that you had admitted it."

He didn't answer.

"As I though. Sleeping with me wouldn't mean anything to you, just like Lorelai did. We would be both means to an end, a notch on your bedpost. Best case scenario, a good fuck."

Again he didn't answer, but this time Lisbon didn't waited for him to talk, or doing something; she took immediately action, and left the car, walking in the opposite direction from where they had come. She wasn't running, it was more like pacing, a quick walk, but somehow, he saw once again in her steps her rage, her pain, even from a distance.

He couldn't have any of it.

He jumped out of the car, leaving the door open and run toward her. When he reached her, he tackled her, and they both fell on the grass. She tried to fight him, with both fists and feet, but he pinned her to the ground with his own weight, his forehead touching hers.

"Let me go, you bastard! Let me go, I hate you, I hate you!" she repeated, again and again. It wasn't like he didn't believe her. What scared him the most was the fact that he did. And that she was right.

He was a monster and a bastard. Because whatever he liked, wanted, it or not, he kept hurting her. His treasure, his future, his only hope for a tomorrow. His love, Teresa.

He deserved it. He deserved all those words, and so much more. And yet, he couldn't stand it. She needed and deserved more than him, the broken shell of an empty man, but yet here he was, asking her to claim him as her own, because there was simply no other way. They belonged together, in a crazy kind of way. Maybe it was written in the stars. Or maybe that morning in the bullpen, when he first saw her, with those beautiful short hair, looking like an elf, his hunch had been correct. For Teresa Lisbon could mean only one thing for Patrick Jane: trouble with a capital T.

The moment she felt his tears on her skin, hot and wet, she stopped to struggle, and gasped. Because many things could be said about him, but she had seen Jane crying only once. And in that moment, she understood. She knew.

He was telling her the truth. Between them... it would be different. It was going to be different. Real. With just pure feelings involved. It wasn't going to be about release or vengeance. It was going to be just about love.

Their love.

Slowly and carefully, in silence, she reversed their roles, and straddled him. Beneath her, he looked at her in complete awe and reverence, like she was a goddess, and she couldn't resist but give him a quick kiss on the lips.

Still straddling, she undressed, never stopping to stare in the pools that were his eyes, and once done, stark naked for him, she made him sit, and started to undress him herself. Jacket, vest and shirt were unbuttoned, and removed at the same time, the action met by a trail of soft, wet and sinful kisses on his hyper-sensitive skin. Then, she opened his belt, lowered his fly, and both boxer and trousers were discharged in a move, and his erection sprang free.

He sighed in pleasure as she took him in her hand, rubbing his aching erection for a short while, studying it like with scientific eye.

"Teresa..." he moaned, her name a plea. He knew he was so, so close, and he knew that he was too excited, too aroused, and it had been too long. Lorelai didn't matter, she didn't count. It had been merely sex with her. Intimacy hadn't mattered a thing, nor had it been part of the equation. It had been all an act. He had been playing the same role that all the porn actors did. But with Teresa...With Teresa it mattered. It was real. It was all about love.

Mostly, though, she was going to be the last woman he had ever touched in his mortal life. Because there was no way that he could even just consider touching another female after having found solace in her arms.

She smiled, and kissed all his tears away with her lips, and lowered herself on him. She started to ride him, slowly, in small circles, and kept that rhythm up, despite his attempts at quickening their pace. But she didn't want their first time to be a meaningless fuck. She wanted slow and careful and tender, while the passion... they were going to have ample of time to experiment on that department.

"With you..." he begged as he decided that yes, for once, just this special time, he was going to allow her to have the upper hand, he was going to allow her to make all the work.

A look on his transfigured face told her everything there was to know. She immediately understood what he wanted from her.

With one hand, she reached between her legs, and entered her. She pinched her clit, massaged it in tempo with their movements, and when she saw on his features that his orgasm was just instant away, she clenched her inner muscles around his thrusting member, forcing his release out of him.

He opened his eyes as he started to empty himself in her convulsing core, and half-sat, taking her in his arms and kissing her as passionately as possible, both of them crying yet again. Tears of happiness for the chance given to them by fate, and tears of sufferance for all the missed opportunities, the wasted time.

They were still crying when they came down from their highs, and they fell on the soft, humid grass, holding each other like for dear life, still crying, unable to stop. But she eventually fell asleep, her head on his chest, lulled by his steady breathing, by his regular and strong heartbeat, by his soothing caresses on her back.

He looked at his ring, and wondered if that had really been the problem all along like she seemed to think. He decided to explain her what it was, what it stood for, a reminder, but also a mean to defend himself and the others, especially her.

But mostly, he couldn't take it off on his own accord. He had promised Angela that he would have never done such a thing, so, if Teresa wanted it gone... he would have asked her to do so.

But only if she meant to replace it with a ring of her own choosing.

** Enormous final** note because I didn't want to bother you at the beginning of the story: I didn't want to write anything about this, actually, I was quite pleased that I ended my all-ages romance, the proposal, where the only "intimate" contact between them is a kiss on the lips at the end of the story... but I don't know. I guess it's because I looked at the season five premiere in Italian this week, and for some kind of reason I went even more shippery on the two of them. I swear, it was like I saw every words Jane said to Lisbon as a remark of his love for her. It's all fault of the "in the previous episodes" followed soon after by "Good Luck, Teresa, Love you" (even if I don't understand why in Italian it turned into "good trip, Teresa. Love you"...). Hell, I didn't even pay too much attention to the fact that they kept calling Mancini "Mansini" first and "Mancini" toward the end of the episode. Or that they made the silent "S" at the end of Martins not so silent. I could even forget that Mancini's voice is too young-ish and nice (but maybe it's because it belonged, a long time ago, to Noah While/John Carter. Fun fact: Alexa Shultz is voiced by the same woman who voiced Kerry Weaver's character)

...ok, maybe I can't really overlook all this things, and I still prefer taking advantage of the technology and look at episodes in English, BUT as creepy as the voice of the promo is, the narration is very cool. And yes, the sentence "as beautiful as an angel, as dangerous as a cobra" comes from the aforementioned Italian promo. Inspiring, really.

Now, I hope you liked it all right. Let me know!


End file.
